Laudric's Heir
by Alex Dark-serpent
Summary: We have all heard of the Heir of Slytherin: Lord Voldemort A.K.A. Tom   Riddle. But there is more to it. What if the boy who lived was not Harry, and could still speak Parseltongue? And why is he not merely a Horcrux?M/m or yaoi
1. Prologue

Prologue

-separater-

The child of Maran and Kilak sat beside them. Maran, [being the man he was] held his son close to his chest.

"You know we won't be able to keep this a secret for very long." The other male, Kilak said.

"I know, but if we can for a bit longer that would be nice." Replied Maran.

The child had been a cauldron baby, something which was not only illegal, but dangerous. The entire process in and of itself was basically theory. Only a few had managed to do so before, and never this type of pair. It had always been pure blooded wizards, not a muggleborn and a pureblood. They were lucky to even have a child as it were.

With their family lineage [combined] to worry about this child would be rather powerful. He may even be able to defeat the 'dark lord.' This wasn't something that they wanted, they did not support him, but did not support the light either. Dumbledore and his 'greater good' ideals were not what they believed was just. He could let others follow blindly, but neither of them were going to be fooled by it.

It was when the child was nearly a year old that the secret was out. A prophecy had been foretold in England, and a few children had been scouted for. The 'dark lord' was desperate to vanquish the 'savior' of the wizarding world. Or the would-be-savior anyway. This led to searches throughout many countries, one of which was their home country.

Their child [which Maran had chosen to call Darani] had been born on the fifteenth of September, but the appearance of a child at the residence of two males had risen suspicion. Even though their child was not born near the end of July, he was still sought after. There was only one child that they could tell fit the description, and he was a wizard child from Britain.

Kilak's job sometimes sent him to the British Isles, where he had overheard part of the prophecy. When he told Maran, the other male had glared at nothing for quite some time.

"Our son will most likely be targeted. He is much stronger than the average child of his age, and if it weren't for my distant relatives of the Black family people would have already found out." Maran had said, but that was nearly a year ago now.

The child was little more than a year old now, and he was the pride and joy of Maran and Kilak. It was on one night when things changed. Maran and Kilak had just come home from work and Darani was left with his grandfather for the day. They came home to find the wizard dead, and a foreign wizard in the house. What was the meaning of this …

The man had uttered Avada Kedavra, and Kilak's lifeless body slumped to the floor before Maran could even lift a finger. Destraught the male clutched the body of his dead lover and glared hatefully at the man.

"Why?" he asked, tears slowly running down his cheeks.

"I cannot have such a strong child live. He may not be part of the prophecy, but his power drew me from Britain." The man said, pointing to a sleeping Darani in his crib. Maran's hands tightened on the body of Kilak as he walked over to the crib. The other did not move, watching to gauge the newcomer's reaction.

"What is so important about him? My son …"

"He is your son? Surely you could not have-"

"My soulmate has been killed and you ask such a thing? My son shall not befall the same fate." Maran said, dropping the body gently to the floor and taking out his wand. It was of cypress, something that was not used in wands created in Britain, so the foreigner was temporarily distracted by it.

Maran's mercury gaze was determined as he pointed his wand and cast a wordless Protego at his son. He then engaged in a duel with the foreigner. All of the spells the other wizard shot at him were strange, said in the language of his own country, and not in Japanese like Maran was so used to. In the end, Maran's very life was hanging by a thread. There was no way to continue, but he needed to, he needed to save his son. Their son …

The last thing Maran did before a streak of green light claimed his life was say goodbye to his son. He gave him one last gift: the gift of their family lineage. Something that would forever bind his son to the heir of his ancestors. It had been fortold, long ago, that the heir to Slytherin and the heir to Kilak's line would end up life bonded, and he made that even easier. Maybe his son could change things; make life better for everyone, and knock both leaders of light and dark down a few knotches.

Voldemort aimed his wand and hissed the killing curse. The dark haired man slumped to the floor, a smile on his lips. The dead man meant nothing to him, but the dark lord realized he might have made a powerful ally. The man had been adamant on saving his son, so that might not have been possible. A soft noise brought him out of his musings. The child had crawled to the edge of the crib, blinking tired eyes oepen to look at the room.

Voldemort did not know why, but he was drawn to the small frame. The child was nothing out of the ordinary really. He had hair a shade or two darker than blood, eyes the color of ash, and skin a combination of the two dead men at his feet. There was nothing special … but there must have been. He stared into the child's eyes, and saw a burning fire, one that should not be in the eyes of someone so young …

Before he could stop himself he had let a hand start to reach out to the child. He blinked and forced his arm to his side. This was no time for curiosity, and staring at the child he wanted to kill would do no good. He'd managed to plant a cursed scar on the forehead of the Longbottom child, but it was this one he would kill. This one who was much stronger, and this one who must die for it.

He raised his wand and uttered the two words that would seal their fate forever.

"Avada Kedavra."

With a flash of light they both fell, the child's small body arcing to the floor and landing next to the body of the dark lord almost gracefully. They both seemed dead, for their eyes were closed and their bodies lax, but it was the child who opened his eyes an hour or so later. This child, who would be the 'savior' but not grow up as one.

-separater-

A/n:

I know this seems confusing. Things will be explained eventually, and this is not a Harry is the bwl story. Things will not completely follow canon either, so if that's what you want leave now.

R and R


	2. 1 First Year's the Charm

Chapter 1 ~ First Year's the Charm

-separater-

A/N:

Yes this is another HP story. I know some of you are waiting for the updates for my other stories, and I have no excuse for that. I got another idea, and just had to write it down.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own the plot and my OC character Darani however. I also own various other OC's and things you won't recognize. If you are not sure about something, you can PM or review and ask me.

Warnings:

Yaoi, [boy/boy relationships] swearing, gore, and ooc characters. There will also be Dumbles, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, and no Harry in this story.

Thought I'd clear some things up right now. Neville is not the Boy-who-lived, but the wizarding world thinks he is. He is going to grow up as the 'boy savior' but he always feels a bit insecure about the whole thing.

Darani means spell in Japanese.

Key:

' = accented words or thoughts not by the main character

{ and } are words spoken in non-English [you'll see what I mean when it gets there

/ = Pparseltongue

[ and ] is mind speech

For this first chapter all of the speech [and anything else] is meant to be in Spanish, unless stated otherwise. I am not going to translate it all into Spanish, but I thought I'd let you know.

Pairings:

Darani [OC] / TMR or Voldemort

Draco / male Oc

-separater-

Darani Fukari yawned as sunlight streamed into his window. Well, here, he was Daran, but that's another story. He yanked on his long hair and pulled himself out of bed. After a shower he made his way into the common area of the Sleet dorms.

Here at Antiguo Magia, the dorms were set up by different types of weather. There were seven in total: sleet, drought, rain, snow, tornado, lightning-storm, and tsunami. Each dorm represented what type of personality its students possessed, but sometimes there were exceptions. Daran was one of these, for the 'sleet' personality came out very rarely, and it was a wonder he'd not been in drought. He would have made it better there, considering he was usually quite the fire ball when angered.

The classes were as follows: spell creation, Defensive and offensive magic, Astronomy, potions, Charms, History of Magic, History of Magical Creatures, Combat skills, blood magic, creature magics, and elemental magic. Only a handful of students were able to take all of them, and most not until at least their fourth year. Daran had managed to skip a few grades, and was taking all but Astronomy and blood magic. The classes he was taking suggested that he was some kind of magical creature, and anyone who did not know him would be able to tell.

Maybe it was in his exotic appearance, the way he carried himself, or even the leaf-shaped ears he possessed. Mostly it was his aura, something that unnerved most full-grown wizards, and some of the teachers as well. He was quite powerful, and it did not take a genius to tell that. The fact that he was half dark elf and part thestral were just perks to it.

There was also the fact of his magical affinity. It was rather hard for him to do light spells. Nuetral spells were still difficult but not nearly as impossible as the light ones. He exceled in magic that did not require a wand, but it was getting him to channel his magic into an object that was hard. He had managed to go through four years of the school's teachings in three months. This was no mean feat.

His adoptive father, Drake Gonzales, had taught him a lot since finding him. He had always told Darani that he'd been on holiday in Japan, and went to visit his friends, who just so happened to be Darani's birth parents. After finding them dead, he took the child, intending to raise him himself. He'd been the only one to know about the secret birth, and no one else could have taken care of such a child as well as he did.

Daran took a book out of his bag and began to read it. It was for spell creation, and he'd been working on his own brand of spells in his current year. In fourth year classes, you were required to start your own brand of magic to be finished in your seventh year. The brand of magic, or adaptation of another brand of magic, was to be the final for your seven years at school. Most of the classes were like this, the teachers wanting originality from their students. They figured that unless you could do so, you weren't ready to go out into the wizarding and or creature community.

Daran had decided to call his brand of magic Word Magic. It involved using words that were not in English, and putting your will behind them to cast spells. This made it kind of vague, and not to mention dangerous. Latin, a few words in Spanish, and other various such things had been used in wizarding Britain. Daran wanted to do something different, and make sure that others could not understand how it'd work. Just saying the words could make it work, and this brand of magic called for either verbal or non-wandless spells. You could not merely use one spell wordlessly, considering visualizing or thinking what you wanted would get in the way. That was his reasoning anyway.

They were taught some of the English spells, but mostly they were taught the Spanish adapted versions of them. It felt kind of strange attending school in Mexico, but he'd never grown up in the country e was born. Drake taught him Japanese, but no one else could speak it here. He always wrote letters to his guardian in Japanese, not wanting others to understand what he'd written.

There were times he did not know how to explain what happened around him, and trying to explain them was rather troublesome. If Drake had not come out and told the headmaster about who his parents were, he'd probably have been expelled in the first month. According to Drake, they had many pure blood wizarding lines that had histories of unexpected bursts of magic in the family line. That was the only thing keeping him from being punished every time his magic got out of control when he grew angry, or what happened when he tried to use blood magic.

Tellling Daran to use Blood Magic was like asking a tiger to kill you, cut you into pieces, and then drink your blood. The Thestral and dark elf blood in his body did not agree very well when it came to Blood Magic. The result was always an injured person, and the headmaster decided to take him out of that class after his third lesson. He did not mind, there was enough to do with the rest of his classes as it was.

It was the end of November now, and classes were going to start in an hour. He shut his book and went to breakfast. There were all sorts of foods, Antiguo needing to feed many types of creatures. The only creatures that weren't allowed here were the more dangerous hybrids, for they could not control their anger and would surely hurt anyone who played on that. This did not mean there weren't dangerous students, hell most of them were at least potentially dangerous. Daran sat down next to Salvador, his dorm mate and best friend.

"What's up Darani?" the brunette boy asked. His hair fell to his thighs, and framed his face with its wild curls. He was the only one other than Drake who called him Darani.

"Not much. Just been working on my brand of magic for Spell Creation." The red head replied.

"You sure are getting things done early. You do know you have until you progress to seventh year studies to do that right?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't wait to start on it. I've wanted to do this for quite a while." Daran told him. The other boy nodded, but it was unnoticed by the red head.

"Are you okay?" asked Salvador.

"I am fine. It's near the new moon, so I am mostly seeing darkness right now."

"Good thing Drake taught you how to function and fight like that huh …"

"Shut up Gomez. It's not like the rest of us here want to hear about your crush on that faggot." A voice said. Salvador growled, but Daran ignored the voice entirely.

It was a boy in their year, Delfin Kanawari, who liked to pick on Salvador.

"Baka." Daran whispered under his breath. Salvador glared at the rude boy and pulled sausages and ham onto his plate.

"At least it's the new moon and not the full moon. You know how hard it is to control myself then …" Salvador said, expecting Daran to know what he meant.

When the sanguine haired boy just sat there Salvador grew worried.

"What's with you today? Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'll be fine. I think I'm going to go train before classes." Daran said, as he left the dining hall. He made it to one of the training grounds in no time and started out with some stretching. He'd already created his own fighting style, and the teacher for combat skills had wanted him to work on perfecting it. That's what he did now: making sure to conjure up as many semi-alive dummies as he could.

When it was time for his first period he spelled himself clean and made his way back to the school. His first class was Defensive and Offensive Magic, a class he exceled at for the most part. In third year's studies they had started to use wands, and this was something he still struggled with. The only thing that was working right now was a wand made from an aspen tree.

-separater-

At Christmas Salvador and Drake were his only company. Since meeting the brunette Darani had started to see him as a sort of non-blood brother. It was strange, how he felt about the other boy. He'd never trusted easily, yet Salvador Gomez had managed to worm his way into the redhead's heart. This had been frightening at first, but Darani got used to it.

"I have something to give you that is not wrapped." Drake said after Salvador had left on Christmas morning. The other boy's parents agreed to let him visit, but he had to return right afterward.

"What is it?" asked Darani, curious now.

"Something I should have given you a long time ago. I think, that it might have made things much easier." The Werewolf said. He ran a hand through his hair before starting out of the room.

Daran followed, both stopping in front of Drake's room.

"I'll get it." Said Drake, opening and closing the door rather quickly. Darani blinked but leaned against the wall to wait. Sometimes Drake was really weird, but there was no point in asking.

A few minutes later the man came out holding a black box with silver letters engraved into it. He held the box out for Darani, and the boy took it. He began to walk away, expecting the man to leave him alone, but he did not.

"Why are you following me?" the boy asked, halting in front of his room.

"I want to see your face as you open it. This is something your dad would have wanted you to have." Said Drake. Darani shrugged and opened his door.

His room was nothing special, themed in his favorite colors: black and silver. He put the box onto the bed and picked up the aspen wand he'd been using at school.

"Do you wonder why that doesn't work very well?" asked Drake. Darani nodded and the adult gestured for the boy to open the box. Darani shook his head and lifted the latches that kept the container closed. Inside the box was a wand, but it wasn't like any other wand Darani had seen before.

It was entirely black in color, but had a few runes written in dark gold along its sides. Darani stared at it for a moment and then reached out a hand to touch it. Immediately warmth spread through his fingers, and he wondered why he'd never seen this before. He glared accusingly at his guardian and let his fingers close around the handle of the wan.

"That wand used to be your dad's. Maran."

"So … why didn't you give this to me before?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd even be able to use a wand. I remember Maran and Kilak saying that the combination of their bloodlines might prevent that. Then there was your dark magic affinity to consider …"

"What of it?"

"That wand is supposed to seal dark magic if the weilder goes into a rage. If you are powerful enough, it will only cut your magicc's potential in half."

"That gives you a reason to not even tell me about this?"

"I was going to actually. Regardless of how you did in school I was going to tell you today anyway." Drake said. Darani did not always understand Drake's reasoning, but he knew what he was doing most of the time.

"So this'll seal my magic if I'm angry?"

"It will only seal the wizard magic. Anything else … elemental, creature, and possibly that new branch you are working on will not be affected."

"That's good. Did dad want me to have this?"

"He said he'd give it to you when you were old enough. That was before …"

"I know. Don't you fucking dare start blaming yourself for that now. It. was. Not. Your. Fault."

"I know but …"

"No buts! I don't want to snap you out of it today. If you remember, the last time, you were stuck in your wolf form for three weeks. How productive was that?"

"Not very …"

"Exactly. So don't even think about it. I am not mad at you for not being there. How many fucking times do I have to say that?"

"I don't know honestly …"

"Well you might want to figure that out." Said Darani, pocketing the wand and walking outside.

In the backYARD of the Gonzales mansion there was an orchard filled with many types of fruits. It was here, where Darani went as he grew angry. There was just something about the scents in the air that lulled him. At least enough to stop being mad. His creature magics were rather volent if he was angered.

A few hours later Drake came out to find him in a tree.

"Why don't you come back inside?"

"Why? I may not be hostile, but this time I really don't understand you." Said Darani, playing with the handle of the wand.

"I am just glad snow doesn't kill these trees. Who knows what you'd have done otherwise." The werewolf said. Darani nodded and jumped to the ground in one fluid motion.

"I guess there's no reason to be mad anymore. I just wish you'd tell me things more often." The boy said.

"I should have. I didn't expect you to advance so quickly though."

"After all you've taught me, you shouldn't be surprised. The only thing I can't do is blood magic."

"Yes, I can recall getting two letters from the school about that."

Darani raised an eyebrow in question.

"One was from your teacher and the other was from the headmaster. Apparently riping the arm off of a student, nearly cutting another into small cubes, and sending one into a coma is bad?" the werewolf said with a smile.

"They seem to think so. I can't understand why. There have ben students killed, and all they got was suspension."

"Things are different now. It's not the middle ages Darani."

"Yeah, but I could have gotten a more severe punishment at an all wizarding school. It seems a bit ridiculous to me."

"With so many potentially dangerous students the punishment has to be less severe. They are teaching vampires, demons, were-cretures, elves, fae, and a number of others. I think you are actually the only one with thestral blood since your father. Kilak."

"So what? I nearly killed people. I did enjoy it, but shouldn't they do more about it? In fact, the first few weeks, when I was being harassed by Delfin and his cronies they didn't do anything either. They should have, considering, this …" Darani said, pulling up his left sleeve.

On the dark flesh a blackened mark stood out from the skin. It was shaped like that of a serpent, but had daggers and a sword going through it.

"They tried to kill me for having this." The boy said, his voice an anguished whisper.

"… ah that …"

"The only thing I have left of my father, and they had to try and kill me for it … What is so important about this mark Drake?"

"It is from Kilak's family line. I am not completely sure myself."

-SEPARATER-

It was near the end of the school year that anything exciting really happened. Whether or not the attack was planned, was anyone's guess. Fires and explosions wracked the buildings of Antiguo, causing the students who were not able to handle the element to panic. Some brought up shields, some magical artifacts, while others perished in the flames. They were so intense that most of the vampires turned to ashes in fifteen minutes.

Darani ran all over the school in search of Salvador. The werewolf was the only student he really cared about. When he finally found him he was trapped underneath a few pillars.

"Amigo!" Salvador breathed out, ash and smoke making it hard for him to even breathe. Darani stopped, took one look at the trapped boy, and began to try lifting the pillars.

It was no use, and the fire was coming for them both. It was no normal fire, and Darani could tell it was the dreaded fiend-fire that killed a lot of magical creatures. Those who could survive it were never the same again. He shut his eyes and then snapped them open. They were a red color now, and he directed the anger that was rising in his very being to the pillars.

By the time he'd managed to get them off there wasn't much time left for Salvador. His breathing was labored, many bones in his body had been broken, and the flames had started to lick at his body. Darani had been affected by them as well, but the thestral magic that was fueling him at the moment kept most of the damage to a minimum. He caressed the burned flesh of his friend's cheek and wished he could do something. This boy, no werewolf, was all he wanted now. Just for him to live, a small remnant of what had begun to be his serogate family.

This is how Drake found his charge. The fires had taken Salvador's body, but Darani seemed not to care. He rana hand through Darani's hair and regretted sending him to this place. They were there for a while, the werewolf trying to comfort his adoptive son, and the other oblivious to the action.

A few hours later nothing was left of the werewolf, and Darani was utterly alone. He blinked when footsteps came toward him. Sometime after Drake had arrived,he'd noticed. He clutched the charred bodies of the two that had meant so much to him tightly. They were all he had left, and no one was going to take that away.

-separater-

Severus Snape wandered the burning hallways of the school with his wand out and a powerful Protego cast to shield himself. He did not like this place, and he was beginning to question Dumbledore's ideals. Yes these were magical creatures, but that did not make them animals. They were just as capable of living, casting their own brands of magic, and had a right to live as wizards. So why were they attacking the school?

Antiguo was supposed to be the most powerful dark magic school in the Americas. Why Dumbledore thought killing students and staff would help the 'greater good' he did not understand. How could causing mass murders be any better than the dark lord himself? But Dumbledore did not see these creatures as deserving to live, or even as real people. That was the reasoning he'd used, and Snape was not happy with it.

The headmaster was outraged when bothNeville Longbottom and Professor Quirrell were found dead near the Philosopher's Stone. The Longbottom boy was the boy-who-lived, and he should have been able to defeat Voldemort in that state. Alas, the boy was too weak, and thus had ended up killed just like the dark lord's vessel. That was why they were here now, because Dumbledore had heard of a child with a cursed scar on his forehead.

Snape briefly wondered how the old man had found out, but quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He was going to find this 'boy' first, and make sure he wasn't tortured. Either way, the child deserved to live. Despite Dumbledore's ideals, that child should not be condemned for what he was. That was one of the reasons he'd joined the dark lord in the first place, and now he was regretting ever becoming a spy for the light.

He wrinkled his nose as the smell of burning flesh got stronger the closer he got to the center of the school. After going down many deserted passageways he noticed something out of place. There was this strange pulsing, and Snape's magical core was drawn to it. He clutched his wand tighter as he began to follow the sensation. What would be powerful enough for him to notice like this?

It was an hour later when he figured it out. He came to a halt in the doorway to a dungeon, and stared at what he saw. On the ground lay two dead werewolves and another … creature. The creature had leaf-shaped ears, exotic looking skin, red hair, and held onto a black wand. The werewolves seemed to have been dead for a while, for their fur had been burned down to blackened flesh. The 'elf?' seemed to be fine for the most part. There were some burns on his body, but it was nothing that wouldn't heal.

He watched as the 'elf' disentangled himself from the dead bodies and glared up at him.

"What do you want? Have you come to kill me as well? If you're going to do it, do it quickly. My powers will kick in soon and then you'll be no match for me wandless or no." the creature said. His voice was slightly husky, and now that he was able to be seen clearly he was definitely an elf.

Snape wiped the sweat out of his eyes and pointed his wand at the elf.

"Why would I kill you? What have you done to deserve it?"

"I … I couldn't save them … They were all I had left …"

"Who are you?" the professor asked.

"… Darani … Darani Fukari …" the boy said, looking down at the dead werewolves again.

He laid beside them and Snape could see tears running down his face. What were these two wolves to him? A few minutes later the child sat up and brushed the hair out of his face. Snape gasped, not expecting what he saw. There, in the middle of the child's forehead, was the lightning bolt shaped scar Dumbledore had heard of. So the old man was right …

The boy noticed Snapes eyes were glued on his scar.

"You want to ridicule me for this too? Are you just like the rest who've found out about it?"he asked, a slightly irritated look in his eyes. Those eyes which looked like the ashes Snape had seen in the corridors.

"No. I want to help you."Snape said. The boy shook his head and bared black fangs at the wizard.

"You are lying. There is no way anyone who may have started this would try to help me. I know you were a part of it, because only wizards can cast the fiend-fire spell. Magical creatures cannot cast it because of the nature of the spell. You have not a drop of magical blood in your veins. Don't lie to me."

This was all said in such a broken voice, yet it was also angry. Snape shook his head and lowered his wand.

"Do you want me to cast the fiend-fire spell on you?" he asked quietly.

The boy blinked and then a smirk flitted across his face.

"Would like to see you try."

Severus had been having trouble understanding the boy, his Spanish wasn't that good. Now he cast a translation charm on himself, so that he could understand him better.

"Having trouble? Am I that hard to understand? Are you humans as stupid as I have been told?"

Snape bristled but did not give any other response.

"Well …" the boy prompted, gesturing from Snape's wand to his own body. Snape growled softly and uttered the spell he spoke of. The deadly fire sprouted from his wand but did not get very far. The boy's eyes turned red, he laid out to protect the dead werewolves, and the fire became mere sparks as it approached him.

"I told you." He said as he stood to his feet.

He was a bit taller than Snape thought he would have been. The boy's age was hard to determine, but he was about 5'4.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I am to be twelve this summer. Why?" the boy replied.

"I was just curious …" Snape said, casting a quick Stupify at the boy. His body slumped to the ground and the potions professor picked him up.

-separater-

When Snape arrived at Hogwarts he frowned at Dumbledore. The orders were to find the child [if indeed it was one] and bring him straight to Dumbledore.

"I found what you asked for." Snape said, re-adjusting the body in his arms. Dumbledore surveyed what Snape carried.

The boy seemed rather ordinary, except for the leaf-shaped ears and his aura. He would have to either bind those or teach the boy to use glamors. Otherwise he seemed normal enough.

"Where did you find him, and what state was he in?" the old man asked of his potions master. Snape conjured a chair and sat down. This was going to be a long story.

Half an hour later he had finished his description and Dumbledore was tapping his fingers on his desk.

"We shall need a name for him. What did he say it was?" asked the old wizard.

"He said it was Darani … I think it's Japanese." Said Snape.

"Derani … right!" he said, taking out a dictionary from one of the shelves beside him. He turned a few pages and then spoke.

"Darani means spell in Japanese. Why would he call himself that?" the headmaster mused to himself.

"I am not sure Albus. Why not let him decide his name when he wakes up?"

"I guess we can try that. I will need to use some spells on him when he wakes up …"

"No," Snape said, his fingers tightening on the boy's wand in his own pocket.

"What … Severus?"

"Just because he is obviously an elf and the supposed boy-who-lived, does not mean you can try to control him like that. Besides … there is no telling whether or not your spells will work. Most of the wizarding spells don't work very well on elves." Snape said.

"Alright Severus. I will yield for now, but if he is dangerous I will have to take action."

Snape nodded and started to leave the room.

"Severus?" the headmaster asked as the black clad figure was about to leave the room.

"Yes?"

"What are you going to do with the boy?"

"I was planning to let him stay with me until the start of term." Said Snape.

"That is acceptable Severus. If he is a dark wizard when he comes here I will blame you first." Dumbledore said, his blue eyes glaring into the back of Snape's head. The potions master nodded and left the room. He went through the castle and aparated to his house at Spinner's End when he was able to.

-separater-

A/N:

I am already working on the next chapter. The werewolves from this chapter will be mentioned again. They were part of Darani's childhood, so they will be somewhat important.

R and R


End file.
